The Very, Very Scary Madlibs Completion

Pittiman Matthews and Ratliff Farkwhar were close friends. They met in play group when they were only three, and had been inseparable ever since. Some people say they were “attached at the spine!”

Pittiman and Ratliff were sixteen years old, a little too old to be trick-or-treating, but not too old to enjoy the taste of candy. Once a year, on Halloween, they would dress in their finest costumes and roam the streets of Jamestownville, in the ever bold pursuit of the late night sugar buzz.

The night before Halloween was also a favorite time for Pittiman and Ratliff. Each Devil’s Night, they pulled an escalating array of vandalism and pranks. They had always wanted to mess with the eccentric neighbor, Wilber Blagovish, who was well into his eighties. They had a whole list of horrors planned, from setting fire to his prized outdoor grease collection, to burning a bag of lipids on his front porch.

They had other mischievous things up their sleeves, like marking his windows with bars of carbon dioxide and decorating his trees with toilet paper. The most horrific thing they had planned, their “Bonjour” so to speak, was attaching a car to Mr. Blagovish’s pet hamster, Angel, and launching him onto the roof of the house with a sword. They weren’t nice young men, not at all.

Fate has a way of punishing those who need to be punished; and elderly Mr. Blagovish had a few “tricks” of his own planned for the two young pranksters.

The pranksters dressed in black pants, complete with gloves and nylon houses over their heads. They loaded a plastic grocery bag with lipids and carbon dioxide, a few dozen eggs, some toilet paper, and a/an steel dog. Using the steel dog wasn’t part of their original plan, but they thought it would come to good use.

They pulled up to the Blagovish estate shortly after midnight. Pittiman was the first to exit the car. He placed a the bag of lipids on the porch and attempted to light it with a match.

It didn’t ignite. Cursing softly, he attempted another match. Still no flame. Pittiman tossed the matchbook aside and took a flask of soda out of his hat pocket. He poured it over the bag and lit another match.

Soon the bag was burning like wild, and the orange flames were curling upward. He retreated to the privet hedge beside the house.

Mr. Blagovish peered out the front door, laughed maniacally, then closed the door. The two hooligans looked at each other confusedly. Shrugging their shoulders, they commenced to throwing the eggs, and the other stuff they had planned.

Why isn’t Mr. Blagovish reacting? Pittiman thought to himself. They waited until the bag of lipids was burned to a cinder, then Ratliff went up on the dark porch and knocked on the door. He ran away as soon as he heard footsteps.

The two boys waited in the privet bush, suppressing their giggles. The door finally opened, and the homeowner peeked his head out. He was grinning stupidly. He withdrew from the doorway, leaving it slightly ajar.

“What’s the old bastard up to?” asked Pittiman, in a trembling voice.

“I dunno, but it’s pretty creepy!” stammered Ratliff.

They waited for what seemed like hours when they saw a light come on through the kitchen window. They saw the old man's silhouette sit in a chair supposedly having a cup of coffee or tea.

“Cool, let’s car up the hamster and toss him on the roof!” squealed Pittiman.

“I couldn’t agree more, buddy!” replied Ratliff, as he grabbed the screeching hamster.

They were struggling with the tube of superglue when they heard a noise behind them.

“Wh-what was that?” whispered Pittiman.

“I don’t know, dude, but I seriously want to get outta here!”

Just then a Werewolf burst out of the privet bush and began advancing toward them. The boys screamed and ran away, but the Werewolf was way to fast for them. It soon caught up to the smaller one and tore at the punks pants with it’s long sharp claws. Ratliff was able to run a bit farther, until a Dragon slithered across the road in front of him and grabbed his legs, forcing him to the ground.

The Werewolf and Dragon dragged the two screaming frightened boys back to the old man's house and settled them on the front steps of the huge manor. The horrid monsters tied the boys together and duct taped the car they had planned using on the hamster to the top of their heads. They then took the sword out of the grocery bag and launched the boys to the top of the mansion’s roof.

Mr. Blagovish appeared at the eave of the house, huffing and panting. He had climbed a tall ladder to get there and he was rather winded.

“So now, you little brats, tell me why you were vandalizing my house!” Pittiman was so scared, he crapped his shirt.

“I’ll tell ya what,” the old man continued, “If ya’ll will eat some of that stuff you burned on my porch, I won’t let my friends here kill you!”

“Any thing, anything, sir!” squeaked the boy who hadn’t soiled himself.

So the boys enjoyed a nice, steaming plate of lipids, and the old man’s son and daughter took off their masks to reveal who they really were. They shared a good laugh.

Well, everyone except Pittiman and Ratliff.

After everyone safely left the roof, Mr. Blagovish had a wonderful visit with his son and daughter, and enjoyed the rest of the holiday.

The boys never pulled another prank. On Mr. Blagovish, that is!